


darling won't you ease my worried mind

by orphan_account



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/F, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Throne Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Fisting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-27 01:59:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16693267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “Let me ease your troubles, My Queen,” Sansa breathes, her eyes fixed firmly on Dany’s as she kneels before her.





	darling won't you ease my worried mind

“What is it?” Sansa asks gently, her voice carrying across the throne room as she makes her way to stand before her Queen. Daenerys sits upon her the throne looking every bit the Queen she fought to become. Her silver hair is twisted into an elaborate braid upon her head, her lilac gossamer dress leaves little to the imagination with little more than two scraps covering her pert breasts.

Her Queen takes her breath away. She has done from the moment she first set eyes upon her.

Sansa pauses at the bottom of the dias, awaiting permission to join her side despite Dany’s protests that she need not bother. Dany’s mouth twists in annoyance but she nods all the same. “I sometimes wonder why I do not let Tyrion take care of the matters of the men that call themselves Lords. Some of their petty squabbles could be solved by infants!"

Sansa gives Dany a small smile. “If I remember correctly, it was you who insisted that they are your people and you will listen to every man or woman who passes through seeking your aid despite Tyrion’s insistence that he take on the burden.”

“Yes, but do they have to be so bloody annoying?” she groans in frustration, her lips curling into a tight frown. Sansa tries to listen as her Queen rants and raves about the bloody lords arguing over a scrap of land, but her attention gets caught on Dany’s heaving breasts, the outlines of her rosebud nipples clearly visible through the thin fabric of her dress.

“And I have to go through it all again tomorrow!” Dany whines, oblivious to Sansa’s heated gaze as she drags her eyes back to meet Dany’s.

“Let me ease your troubles, My Queen,” Sansa breathes, her eyes fixed firmly on Dany’s as she kneels before her.

“We cannot,” Dany groans, her breath catching as Sansa’s fingers dance up her legs, and hooking the flimsy material of her dress up to Dany’s hips, her eyes lighting up in delight to find her bare before her very eyes. Sansa presses a kiss to the silver curls between her legs, her lips traveling from one hip bone to the other.

“Sansa,” she sighs. “Not here.” And yet Dany cannot help but lean into her lovers touch, her frustration almost forgotten under those dancing fingertips.

Blue eyes flash up to hers. “Why? Because someone might see? Let them watch.”

The last of her inhibitions melt away, and Daenerys reaches as Sansa pushes her back down to her throne and spreads her legs, pressing kisses along her thighs.

She does not care if anyone sees them. She is proud to kneel before her Queen, her lover. Oh how she has changed from the proper young lady her mother taught her to be!

Sansa laughs, a puff of warm breath against Dany’s slick curls. She parts Dany’s folds with the thumb and forefinger of her hand and leans in and drags her tongue across her slick folds. Dany cries out, twisting her fingers through Sansa’s hair and kicking a leg over her shoulder. She’s already on-edge, her arousal pooling and spreading over her thighs.

“You’re so wet,” Sansa purrs, giving Dany another slow lick. “Gods, you’re absolutely drenched.” It’s not enough stimulation and it has Dany groaning in frustration. Sansa’s playing coy, licking everywhere but her swollen clit and it’s agony. She knows exactly what she likes, and she’s in no mood to be teased.

“Lick me,” she says again, and she pushes Sansa’s head down, pressing the other woman’s face into her cunt. She slides a hand down her stomach and sighs as she starts drawing rough circles around her swollen clit, forcing Sansa to lap at her inner lips with the other.

Sansa makes a delighted noise and responds enthusiastically. Daenerys has watched her in command, see grown men four times her size tremble on their knees before the Warden of the North who strides into battle with little more than her clever mind. Sansa is just as good at following orders, and she gives Dany exactly what she needs: pressure and intensity, tongue buried deep in her cunt. She cups Dany’s arse, fingers digging into her skin as she ravages her cunt, lips and tongue and jaw working in concert to bring Dany to her peak.

She comes with a shriek that shakes the walls of her throne room. Sansa pulls back, grinning lips shining with Dany’s wetness. It’s a smug, and self-satisfied smile, but one orgasm has done nothing to quell Dany’s hunger. “Your fingers,” she groans, head falling back against her throne. “Quick!”

She obeys, grinning wickedly. “Greedy thing,” she says, rubbing her thumb across her Queen’s clit. “Take your tits out, I want to watch you play with them.”

Dany does as she is bid, slides the gossamer sleeves down her arms and down until it hooks at her waist, baring her pert breasts for Sansa's eyes. She cups her tits and pinches her nipples sharply, making them stand out sharply over her pink, puffy areola. Her eyes never leave Sansa's as she drinks in the sight as she pushes one finger into Dany, easily sliding in past the second knuckle.

“That’s good,” says Dany, breathing hard and fast, her elaborated braided hair long since come undone and now falls around her flushed face. “Give me another.”

“You’re so wet, you could take my whole hand, if you wanted,” says Sansa, adding a second finger to the first. “Want to try?”

“Gods, yes,” she pants.

Her head lolls on her neck and she licks her fingers and resumes massaging her nipples, groping and tugging at her sensitive skin. The sharp little pain is a perfect contrast to the pleasure of Sansa’s dexterous fingers, curling and uncurling inside her aching cunt. Dany spreads her legs a little wider, her keen eyes watching Sansa as she spreads Dany’s arousal all over her hand.

She caresses Dany’s mound, toying with her curls before slipping her fingers into her, careful not to rush. Moaning, Dany bites her lip and squeezes her breasts, fingernails pricking her skin to offer herself an alternate sensation, something to focus on other than the sweet, slow agony of being stretched, being filled. Sansa is slow and careful, not teasing, but taking her time. Praise dripping from her lips, she wriggles her fingers, thrusts, pulls out, allows Dany to adjust to each new addition. After an eternity, Sansa kisses Dany’s thigh and tucks her thumb, slipping her fingertips into Josephine’s hole.

Shivering, Dany clutches at herself, moaning audibly to encourage Sansa as she works past the initial resistance. The gentle bulge of her knuckles is the most difficult. Dany inhales sharply, a noise like a whimper escaping her lips.

Sansa pauses. “Are you alright, My Queen?” she asks, her voice low and husky, her free hand stroking gentle circles on Dany’s thigh.

Stuttering out a breath, Dany nods. “Don’t stop,” she orders, her inner walls clenching around the other woman’s hand. “It feels so good, just keep going—” her words end in a sharp cry as Sansa’s hand slides all the way in, her fingers curling into a fist inside of her. “Seven hells!” she sobs, “Oh yes, Sansa, don’t stop—”

She shudders, clenching around the other woman’s hand as Sansa begins to thrust. Her arousal drips down Sansa’s hand, and the wet sound of skin-on-skin makes her tremble. She goes taut, fingers pressing dents into her own breasts. She rubs frantic circles over her erect nipples, chewing her lips as she reaches plateau.

Sansa’s whole arm moves, sliding in and out. Crying out, she bears down on the other woman’s hand, body rocked by tiny, fluttering contractions. Her second orgasm is quieter, longer. Her spine compresses, her toes curl, her whole body shakes with it. Mouth open in an undulating moan, she rides out the waves of pleasures with her hand fisted in the delicate fabric of her dress.

Her throne room smells like sweat and sex. A rare blush stains her cheeks as she meets Sansa’s wicked gaze as she gently slides her hand out. “Seven hells,” Dany pants.

Sansa’s smirk is pure filth as she replies, “Glad to be of service, My Queen.”


End file.
